


tonight eternity is an open door

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Frottage, M/M, Mentioned: Rita Ora/Harry Styles, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Note to self, Louis thinks as he sits by himself stirring idly at some fancy non-alcoholic drink with an umbrella, school dances fucking suck.</p>
<p>(Or, perhaps they don't if you've got someone to break all the rules with.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	tonight eternity is an open door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soundingawkward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundingawkward/gifts).



> okay, this was written really quickly because [bekha](http://nicktomlinshaw.tumblr.com) wanted some kind of frottage, maybe high school au, and i couldn't help myself. feelings and then like political protest got in the way of the frottage (i'm so sorry!) and yeah, it's kind of overdramatic and stuff. it wasn't meant to but then louis had to go and make a scene of himself and it got a lot longer than it was supposed to be. 
> 
> (title from euphoria by loreen.) (unbeta'd.) (i literally know nothing about school dances, i mean, like???)
> 
> this actually my first time posting anything online, one of my firsts in tomlinshaw and any [constructive feedback](http://lmgtfy.com/?q=define%3A+constructive+feedback) is welcomed whole heartedly! please help me out with making my writing better and with the interactions and stuff. particularly the pacing of the story too, i'm not sure about that, and yeah, like i said it's probably a little overdramatic, but that can't be helped. hope you like it.

Note to self, Louis thinks as he sits by himself stirring idly at some fancy non-alcoholic drink with an umbrella, school dances fucking suck.

 

“Having fun?” a voice says next to him, jolting Louis a little out of his melancholy, and Louis can almost feel the sarcasm dripping off the words, down onto his shoulder. He glances up, away from where his eyes have been trained to the mingling group of students – _friends_ – dancing and socialising, and looks up into the dark brown eyes of Nick Grimshaw.

 

(It’s a surprise, really. Not that he and Nick like _hate_ each other or anything. It’s just Nick’s got his own friends and Louis’ got his own different ones and maybe there’s Harry but there’s also this kind of rivalry between the two of them. Like a constant push and pull, and maybe Nick doesn’t like Louis as much he kind of wants Nick to, so there’s just a little, blossoming friendship that’s got little blocks of darkness stopping the sunlight getting through so it can grow.)

 

“If perhaps, I had a date maybe,” Louis says with a shrug that is entirely too nonchalant for how he’s really feeling, “or maybe, if all my mates didn’t have hot dates.”

“Yeah,” Nick laughs bitterly and nudges at Louis’ shoulder to shove over on the bench a little, so there’s room for him. Louis does as he’s told; shifts over just a tad so Nick can balance on the edge of the chair, placing down his own ridiculously fancy drink atop the patterned table cloth. His drink is pink, to the point it looks hideously sweetened and next to Louis’ pale green it looks like someone spiked it.

 

“You got a date?” Louis shoulder bumps Nick back, shuffling over a little more because apparently the shoulder bump was stronger than Louis thought and the look of fear that darts across Nick’s face as he thinks he’s going to fall off is only mildly hilarious.

“You think I’d be here whining to you of all people if I did?” Nick rolls his eyes overdramatically, and Louis pokes him in the side for that, gets him right in the ribs and tries not to think about how silky smooth Nick’s suit feels underneath his fingers and Nick in a _suit._

“You just like me, that’s all,” Louis retorts and Nick chokes on his pink, fruity drink, sucking in through the ridiculous straw just as Louis says that and looks like for a second he might need the first aid people to rush over and help.

 

(He doesn’t though. gets air back into his lungs and breaths properly again. He doesn’t reply to Louis; doesn’t say a thing, and Louis tries to forget the pink high on nick’s cheeks.)

 

“Didn’t even realise Harry and Rita had a _thing_ ,” Louis says, to change the topic a little, because the other one seems like a bad path to go down, and well, gossip seems to be Nick’s thing. Nick smiles gratefully, so there’s that.

“Did anyone?” he asks, and Louis’ shrugs and listens patiently as Nick goes into every single little tiny detail of how there was actually signs or something about the whole Harry and Rita thing, and as much as Louis doesn’t care, he think kind of _does_. Maybe it’s just what Nick does; make you care about something you never realised mattered to you. Maybe it’s just the expression in Nick’s voice as he goes on, cheeks getting pinker and pinker, and Louis wonders if Nick’s drink is as non-alcoholic as it’s supposed to be.

 

He leans over the table, over Nick a little, and curls his tongue around the straw of Nick’s drink to suck it into his mouth and finish it off. It’s pink and sickly sweet, and Louis wonders if it’s more of a syrup than a drink, and looks back to Nick who has gone completely silent. He raises an eyebrow.

 

“There wasn’t any alcohol in that?” He asks, picking the straw up and poking the tiniest bit of pink in the bottom of the glass, spreading the colour and syrup around.

“What,” Nick huffs out a slightly maniacal laugh, looking borderline hysterical for a moment with hair falling out his signature quiff, long strands over his forehead and pink still very high up on his cheeks and Louis wonders if Nick realises how _beautiful_ he looks like that.

“Thought there was alcohol in your drink,” Louis shrugs and kind of feels like blushing too because Nick’s _entire_ gaze is on him and maybe that’s a bit too much, “mocktails fucking suck.”

 

“They really do,” Nick replies and picks up the rest of Louis’ drink and finishes it off, just like Louis did to his and Louis frowns because _hey,_ that was more than what he stole. Not that those drinks were really worth anything. Nick puts the glass back down on the table and shuffles back off the bench, standing up and looking incredibly tall from where Louis’ sitting, “I’m going to go have a smoke, you can come if you want.”

“Smoking’s gross,” Louis says but gets up and follows Nick out of the hall anyway, anything to be away from all the people having fun and snogging and goodness knows what else.

 

It’s quiet outside, chilly too and Louis shivers as the pair of them skip past an alcove currently occupied by a very busy couple. Huddled together in their own alcove, Nick gets out a cigarette and his lighter, but doesn’t light up, fiddles with the cigarette between his fingers as Louis watches the movement fascinatedly and huffs out a sigh.

 

“I don’t have a date tonight because I made the stupid mistake of asking the dance committee if it was okay to ask a boy to the dance,” Nick sounds so wretched that Louis looks up, reaches over to still the fidgeting movements of Nick’s hand with his own, “I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to _ask_ , really. Maybe I thought they cared about equality and all that, but apparently the vote to not have same-sex couples at the dance was by far the majority.”

“That’s bullshit,” Louis says, and when Nick’s eyes focus on him properly he looks furious, furious enough to go back into that dumb dance and make a Statement or something Big.

“Not much I can do about it now,” Nick shrugs and he looks so hopeless and lost, and kind of it’s like a side of Nick that most people don’t get to see, doesn’t dare share with them, that Louis takes his hand properly, knocking the cigarette out of his fingers and pulls him determinedly along back to the inside of the hall.

 

Inside, the party music has really started and the dance floor is a mass of dressed up girls and boys bopping along to some techno music or something. Louis doesn’t really apologise as he pushes through the crowd, making a beeline for the DJ and the decks, dragging Nick along behind him. The DJ and Louis converse along for a few seconds, and it’s kind of apparent that Louis knows him because he even stops the song to hand over the microphone to Louis.

 

“Sorry about that,” Louis says in a chipper voice that doesn’t sound like he’s sorry at all, “we had to interrupt your scheduled programing for a little announcement.”

“Who do you think you are?” Nick hisses as Louis steps forwards a little and the DJ shifts a couple of buttons and apparently he’s in charge of the lighting as well, shifts it so a couple of circles of bright light turn right onto Louis and Nick and their hands still clasped between them. Louis just grins cheekily up at Nick, and it’s kind of like a trust me moment.

 

“Now I trust you’re all having a great time, yeah?” And, there’s something about Louis, something so charismatic that he actually gets a cheer back, “I mean, look at you, you all look like you’re having a great time with your dates and friends and all, yeah?” The cheer comes again, and Nick wonders for a second how Louis _does_ it. “Well, there’s some people out there that aren’t, and that’s pretty shit, don’t you think?”

 

Louis pauses for a moment, and scans the crowd, lets his eyes drift over them slowly.

 

“There might be many reasons why you wouldn’t be having fun.” He says almost conversationally, “Perhaps your date cancelled, or maybe you don’t have one and all your friends are off with their own, leaving you behind. Maybe you’re not feeling to good, or something’s happened, and maybe there’s drama or something went wrong. Those are all pretty awful, but there’s one reason that’s worse than the lot of them.”

“Oh Louis,” Nick says quietly as he realises exactly what’s going on, and Louis looks back up at him quickly again, smile softer and sweeter this time.  

“And that’s because the dance committee point blank refused to allow some people to have a date,” It sounds so dramatic really, and Louis’ rapt audience does a rather good boo, like Louis is a part of a soap-opera, and maybe they actually are because this kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life, right? “The committee said to some people that they’re not allowed to have fun. That’s fucking bullshit.”

 

And apparently the committee has had enough of Louis’ interruption, had enough of this ridiculous nonsense because the security guards that had previously been standing out the entrance to the dance are moving through the crowd of dressed-up students. They’re getting through the crowd quicker than Louis and Nick did, and Louis obviously half cuts through his wild, made up speech to turn off the microphone and throw it back to the DJ and pull Nick’s head down in one swift movement. Their crowd goes quiet simply wild as Louis pushes himself up onto tiptoes to close the gap between his and Nick’s mouths.

 

The kiss doesn’t last long, security doubles their efforts to get there and Louis willingly gets escorted out so long as he gets to keep a tight grip to Nick’s hand. A little dazed, Nick follows along placidly and blinks a little crazily as people seem to rush forwards and congratulate him.  He supposes kissing Louis Tomlinson is something to be congratulated over and takes the praise with a kind of wonky smile.

 

Louis laughs manically as they get pushed back out into the cold air, shivering still and wraps his arms around Nick’s waist, looking up at him with shining eyes and Nick dips his head down to press another sweeter, softer, longer kiss on those lips.

 

“Sorry about surprising you in there,” Louis says when they pull back, and then snorts out, “we just got thrown out of a _school dance_ ,”  between his laughter and Nick joins in, because that’s kind of ridiculous, feels a bit like there’s so much adrenaline inside his veins it might ignite.

“Thank you,” He says instead and Louis smiles, smiles like he’d do it over and over and over again if he could, smiles like it matters that Nick’s happy and that’s probably the worst thing that’s ever happened to Nick, that Louis seems to care this much.

 

“You’re going to have to drive me home,” Louis points out, frowning a little, “I’ve kind of lost my ride because of this, because of _you_.”

“Of course,” Nick smiles softly, “you’re dumb though.” he adds because, well he can mostly, but also because Louis’ fond look drops off his face for indigence and he basically tackles Nick to the ground.

“Oi.” Louis says as Nick laughs as his back hits the car park gravel, wiggling boy poking his sides and faintly hitting him, laughs until Louis stops and leans over the top of him and snogs the breath right out of him.

 

They lay there, in the cold and ruining their nice suits on the gravel and with creases, and Nick can feel how hard Louis is against his hip. That kind of short circuits his brain a little, makes his hands scrabble uselessly for Louis’ hips and hold on, dig his fingers in until Louis’ wriggling in his grip for Nick to let go.

 

“Up,” He orders into the seam of Nick’s lips, pushing himself upwards and rocking back onto his heels before stretching upwards in a rather graceful movement for someone with tented trousers. He holds a hand out for Nick, stumbles a little as he tries to pull him up off the ground, “which one’s your car?”

“Over there,” Nick waves in a general direction and then he tries to adjust his own trousers before giving up because they’re just as bad as Louis’, and it’s for Louis, so what does it matter anyway?

 

They barely make it to Nick’s car before Louis is pushing up all in Nick’s space, pushing him up into the car door, grinding steadily up into him. The slow, almost pronounced stutter of hips into Nick’s has Nick leaning over, back hunched to press his head into Louis’ shoulder, nosing aside the suit shirt to place a soft kiss there. Forming a wonky grin, Nick shifts his hands over Louis’ hips, moulding over the fabric, so they’re not hanging limply by his sides and let his own hips roll up also, grinning more as Louis’ knees buckle a little against him.

 

“Fuck,” Louis says and Nick can feel the vibrations of the words that get stuck inside his throat, feel it against the collar of his shirt, and on the hot skin of his neck. Shifting a little, Nick lets his legs slip out farther so he’s leaning lower down against his car, jolt them together and lifts his head from Louis’ neck,  pulls Louis closer by the hips, right flush against him. It disrupts the rutting of their hips, just a little, but it doesn’t seem to matter anyway because the roll of hips together seems to be getting messier, faster and rougher, and Louis bites at his bottom lip.

 

It’s very pink and kind of puffy, and just tucked in under Louis’ white, little teeth, and Nick can’t help but reach up and slant his mouth against it. Louis’ little fingers bunch tightly into his lapels,  fingers pressing into Nick’s chest and, the way Louis shifts under his fingers is the last thing he’s thinking about as he comes.  He slumps against his car, head back against the cold metal as he dazedly watches Louis grinding up on his thigh through heavy-lidded eyes.

 

Louis’ eyebrows knot together in concentration, and he bites again at his red lips, tongue peeking out to soothe at them, swipe at the bottom lip and gasp like the noise is tearing itself out of his throat. This is what Louis Tomlinson looks like as he comes, Nick thinks a little deliriously and wonders how on earth he got to this point from the start of the night.

 

Trying to shift his trousers, Louis makes a face at Nick, who makes one back, and pushes at him to move back. He does so, and Nick smiles wickedly at how pliant Louis seems to be after an orgasm, to which he receives a punch to the stomach.

 

“Who’s driving you home,” He wheezes out, overdramatic as always and that seems to be theme to this; overdramatic when it comes to Louis.

“Thank you,” Louis simply replies and rattles at the passenger side door handle until Nick goes through his pocket looking for his keys. He finally gets them out, and opens up the door, so Louis slip into his car easily and does up his seat belt.

 

He’s quiet on the way home – Nick’s _home_ , mostly because he doesn’t know where Louis lives, and Louis doesn’t give him an address – and hums a little to song cheesy pop song on the radio. He flicks at all sorts of dials to do with the radio and air-conditioning and Nick has to knock his hands away from it all. He’s sleepy, eyes barely open, and Nick’s voice gets stuck in his throat when he glances over at him, gets stuck in his throat because Louis can’t wear those trousers to sleep, not with the little patch on the front of them, and will have to wear something too big of Nick’s.

 

“Nick,” Louis says slowly, reaching over to poke Nick in the arm, “who were you going to ask to the dance?” And, well he’s asleep before Nick can even answer _you._


End file.
